


Policeman's Hands

by miss_nettles_wife



Category: The Doctor Blake Mysteries
Genre: Hand Jobs, Hidden Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, awkward sharsies feelsies during sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25650511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_nettles_wife/pseuds/miss_nettles_wife
Summary: Charlie helps Matthew relax before a big court date.
Relationships: Charlie Davis/Matthew Lawson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Policeman's Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lenn0nLem0n](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenn0nLem0n/gifts).



> I don't write a lot of smut, so I hope you can all forgive the weird tone of this fic...Happy birthday, Lennon! Go send them a happy birthday message <3

“You’re crazy.” Matthew said, meaning it wholeheartedly, “In the middle of the police station?” He finally broke his eyes away from his tired reflection to see Charlie, who had seated himself on the countertop of the police station bathroom. The overhead light does little for his naturally pale complexion it gives him a sort of yellow tint, a little bit jaundiced even. It highlights the imperfections of his face, the thin pink curved scar above his eyebrow where Baker hit him with the neck brace, a light acne scarring on his left cheek you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t looking for it, the recess of his eyes in his head...But they weren’t imperfections, not to Matthew. Of course, Charlie could never know that. It just wasn’t appropriate for a boss to comment on his subordinate like that under any circumstances. Besides, Charlie already held more ammunition against him than he cared to give to anyone else and he didn’t desire to arm his further if this almost relationship that they have developed between them sours and his sweetheart so to speak takes it to their superiors in Melbourne. Men are dangerous to get close to, but he can’t help it, not with Charlie. Even so: The suggestion he just received was insane. 

“Why’re you saying it like no one’s ever rubbed one out in the police station bathroom?” Charlie countered, voice curving around the utterly indecent sentences like he was coating them in treacle just for Matthew’s benefit. 

“I’m not saying that.” He replied, “I’m saying that...This is a public space and cops aren’t exactly friendly to the degenerate types.” If Charlie took offense to being called a degenerate he didn’t show it, just bit back a smile, and nodded his head towards the door. 

“It locks.” 

“Does it?” Seemed like something of an oversight to have a place someone could escape too in a police station. But the idea of locking the door made him way more comfortable with the idea, and maybe even the mental image of Charlie getting down on his knees came to mind untarnished with the concern of being caught out. No one had even noticed that Charlie followed him into the restroom from the Bullpen, and if they did then they assumed it was a case thing. God only knows that neither of them were particularly good at putting work down. And if someone were to barge in now then there was nothing suspicious about Charlie sitting on the counter and listening to Matthew rant and rave about the fact that Lucien’s interfering had put this case in jeopardy. Going on the stand was always a stressful, inconvenient experience but since this case hinged on his testimony about the suspect’s behaviour since Lucien’s assessment had been thrown out and his previous behaviour was counted inadmissible...He was a little stressed. He didn’t want a wife-killer out on the streets. He didn’t want to testify either. 

The stress was killing him, probably going to send him into an early grave if Doctor King was to be believed. Especially now. He’d come in here to splash some water on his face before he headed out to court in an hour or so. Charlie followed, that god awful look of concern stuck to his face like a layer of alfoil on a biscuit tray. He doesn’t want to see Charlie look like that, he’d like to see Charlie smile like he did when Matthew took him to see his first play. He wanted to see Charlie relaxing on the bed, reading from a copy of Bush Studies while he waits for Matthew to close up the windows. That’ll do him in, that concern for Charlie. He’d already decided that Charlie was going to be his next in line, is the heir apparent to the Ballarat station.

“Yep.” Matthew looked back at him, still disbelieving that Charlie was capable of such dirty thoughts, let alone vocalising them. “Anyway, my first time with a man was in the dormitory at the academy.” Briefly distracted from his concern over the court case with Charlie’s statement, he tried to imagine an eighteen and a half years old Charlie and found the image adorably round-faced and not appropriate for such situations. 

“Really? With who?” 

“Name was Douglas. Said that he’d do me if I did him.” 

“And you did?” he asked, astounded. Charlie shrugged casually and crossed one of his long legs on top of the other. He felt a spike of jealously for Douglas, to have that first time with Charlie, because it seemed that no matter was it was, when it came to sex, Charlie always had the upper hand, just once he’d like to be the one leading the charge. Unfortunately, his own repertoire of experience was limited to a couple of unsatisfying one night stands years ago before he decided that sex just wasn’t worth the hassle and he didn’t even enjoy it anyway. Turns out that with a man like Charlie, seemingly put here in this Earth just to embody all the desires and wants Matthew had that sex could be an exercise in enjoyment rather than boredom. 

“Yeah. He tasted bad.” He scoffed at the assertion from Charlie and was relieved to find that he wasn’t as good as him. At least, in the privacy of the bedroom, Charlie had never told him he tasted bad and Matthew took great care with his personal hygiene. Then again, Charlie probably never told Douglas that he tasted bad either. The thought that Charlie would just endure putting something he can only imagine as disgusting in his mouth spurs him to look back in the mirror and check his breath. “Anyway, he never even paid me back.” 

“Why not?” 

“Well, took me long enough to figure out how to get him off that we had to go to our gun safety seminar. Turns out the gun that this other guy picked up had a live bullet in the chamber. Shot Douglas in the leg.” 

“Did he die?!” Matthew asked, looking back at Charlie who had since rested his elbow on his knee and had his hand on his fist. 

“No, he was fine. Well, not fine he got shot in the leg. I mean, he lived. But he did drop out. Last time I heard he became a mechanic and had a nice wife.” 

“That’s a lovely story, and I’m so glad your type is men with bum legs -” he said, sarcastically, “But somehow I don’t think Bill Hobart will be enamoured by your explanation.” Charlie shrugged again, 

“If you don’t want to, I'm not going to hold you down and french you. I’m just saying that, historically, it’s not a terrible way to take a load off.” He says it so casually like he’s offering a glass of water, or to get him another glass of wine in the occasional evenings that are less about the sex, although the sex is great, and more about relaxing after a long, and usually distressing day at work. Sometimes, he wondered if Charlie would stay with him and just watch television, or in Charlie’s case read a book. Just lie in bed, arms around each other like those blessed few moments in the Afterglow before Charlie started shoving his clothes on and escaping out the side door. 

“I didn’t say I don’t want to,” Matthew replied, hesitantly. Because he did want to, and Charlie was right. It was probably a great way to take the edge off. But more than that, he was almost always willing to take anything Charlie had to offer him irrespective of if he thought it was insane or not. Charlie never seemed like someone who could - or would - engage with risks beyond what he needed too but if he did express this more adventurous side than Matthew was more than willing to play along until he found where he drew the line. “But my experience with you is that afterwards I don’t feel like doing much but sleep.” This makes the corners of Charlie’s lips quirk up slightly in pride. “And unlike you, who’ll have a gag I might not be able to keep myself quiet.” 

“I could give you a...Helping hand?” Charlie offered, “But with just water and soap to ease the way it might be a bit...Rough.” Perks of having a rough policeman hand with vaseline: extra friction. Downsides of having rough policeman's hands and going in dry: Too much friction. That one Matthew had learned the hard way. Anyway, Matthew wasn’t sure he wanted cheap bathroom soap anywhere near his cock, thanks. 

“You might be right about that.” He agreed as Charlie kept looking at him from the sink before standing. 

“You really want it? Usual rules still apply. You can say no or stop and I will. You know I will.” Matthew nodded, unsure how he felt about Charlie asserting that he knew what Matthew knew about him. It felt far too intimate for a relationship that was meant to be based on mutual stress relief while they were unattached. Matthew was not likely to become attached at any time, but Charlie had his pick of pretty girls, or homely, plain girls, or even criminals it seemed. He knew Charlie was different from him in the respect that the differences between men and women didn’t phase him. 

“Don’t question me in that tone.” He said, rolling his eyes at Charlie’s care and concern. “I’m not some delicate daisy.” 

“Just checking,” Charlie said, scoffing in his usual slightly above it all style. Once he heard the lock click shut Matthew felt his shoulders slope slightly, relief dripping into his bloodstream. Okay, so no one was going to walk in on them, and the windows were high up on the walls so there was no way for anyone to peer in and see them. For all intents and purposes, they were alone, and in an hour and a half, Matthew will be on the stand. He slipped off his suit jacket and set it on the counter Charlie was just sitting on, to keep it clean and starched looking. After a moment of consideration, he loosened his tie as well. 

With little fanfare, Charlie manhandled him so he was leaning up against the sink, and could safely take the weight off his bad leg. Oh, he hadn’t been thinking about that so it was a good thing Charlie was. His brain must be fried if he can’t even remember basic things like ‘you have a bum leg’ so how was he going to recall anything on the stand. Maybe Charlie was right and he was a lot more tightly wound than he knew. He carefully lowered himself to his knees, and then looked up through those long, brown eyelashes at him in a way that has always made him bite back a soft groan. 

He was someone of movie star good looks, he thought, had always thought. Even when they first met and Matthew had no idea he was going to be ready to ruin himself a thousand little times by this man, he thought he was handsome. It was what most people first thought about Charlie because it was just undeniable. He was handsome, like a movie star, or a theatre actor. Seeing in Charlie’s eyes he was asking one last time for reassurance, Matthew nodded slightly and Charlie rewarded him with another little curve of the lips and crinkle of the eye. Those long, slim fingers carefully undid his belt, followed by his zipper, and allowed Matthew’s pants to fall almost to the floor. 

“Will they get wrinkled?” He asked, without really thinking about it. 

“Probably not any more or less than they would have otherwise,” Charlie said, looking thoughtful, though Matthew was certain it wasn’t about his pants. The boy was planning something and whatever it was Matthew knew he was going to like, that was just how Charlie operated it seemed. He knew tricks that Matthew had never even dreamed existed and he used them with reckless abandon as if he doesn’t rearrange Matthew’s world every single time. With further consideration, Charlie slid his boxers down his legs to his knees. Matthew wasn’t hard, but if Charlie took offense to that he didn’t indicate it visually. 

He, with near painful tenderness, curved his hand around the length of Matthew’s cock and navigated his mouth to the tip. With remarkable grace, he carefully slipped his lips around the tip and hollowed out his cheeks. He bobbed down, and then back up again, before bobbing down. It’s a strange thing, to watch himself get hard because usually: he didn’t. Usually, he was too busy looking at Charlie and trying to remember all the little details so that in a month, or two, or three or whenever this thing between them flickered out and ended. He wasn’t going to do it himself; he doesn’t have it in himself to go with grace. To put an end to it all and let Charlie find himself a girl. Or patch things up with Rose. Or find himself a nice boy. If Charlie did any of those things then he’d be more than happy to let him go. Well, no. Not happy. He’d be heartbroken. But he would step aside, he’d never bring it up, he’d just behave like all these wonderful, terrifying moments that have passed between them never happened. 

“What are you thinking about?” Charlie asked, curiously. 

“Hm?” Matthew asked, looking down. His prick was damp with spit and almost hard. Charlie’s hand had found itself wrapped gently around it, practically cradling it. 

“You’re making that face again... This is meant to be relaxing.” 

“What face?” 

“The one where you screw up your brows and look off into the distance. What’s on your mind?” 

“Is now really the time?” 

“Compared too? You have my undivided attention.” 

“I thought  _ you  _ were meant to be giving  _ my _ prick your undivided attention.” 

“I can do that,” Charlie said, nodding his head up and down. His hair has enough wax in it that it would take vigorous movement to knock any of the curls free from where they were stuck to his head. He liked it when Charlie’s hair was mussed, though Charlie didn’t. One of life's greatest pleasures was running his hands through it just to watch it fall onto his forehead. “But it seems like whatever’s on your mind is getting in the way.” 

“Are you a shrink now?” 

“No, just a concerned party.” If not for the incredibly earnest look on Charlie’s face then Matthew might have thought he was kidding. But truth is...Charlie doesn’t kid so he must be serious. God. 

“I’m thinking about you.” He says before he can stop himself. “That’s all.” 

“What about me?” 

“What do you think?” 

“Well, it can’t be anything positive. Is it something I said? I already said -” 

“It’s nothing you said,” Matthew assured him. Charlie flickered one perfectly shaped eyebrow up, creasing his forehead in question. If Matthew was able, he would have liked to bend down and kiss him. He doesn’t want to talk about it, to open the door of what happens between them because they don’t talk about it. They talk about almost anything else, they talk about other people, they talk about work but they have never said more than a few words about themselves. And now, less than an hour before he gets on the stand, Matthew doesn’t want to start. 

“So...What’s worrying you?” 

“I just wonder how I’m going to go about my life without knowing I could have Ballarat’s most eligible young man on his knees for me.” Charlie blinked in confusion. 

“Why are you worried about that?” He asked, “You gonna fire me or something?” 

“No. I just...One day you’ll be off with a new boy or girl and I won’t be.” 

“Are you breaking up with me?” 

“What? No!” Charlie continued to look at Matthew, blue, blue eyes swirling in deep round curves. 

“I don’t understand. I thought we were...Together. Please don’t break up with me while I’m kneeling on the floor of the bathroom at the station. I don’t think I could take it.” 

“I’m not breaking up with you,” Matthew said, and the words taste foreign in his mouth as he says them because he’s never spoken them before. Never had cause. People left him, not the other way around. People left him; Hell. Charlie left him too when he went to Bonehead but he’d come back. He’d come back, and he thinks that they’re together. It almost feels surreal. “I thought you just wanted to be casual.” 

“I thought that you just wanted space.” He admitted, dropping Matthew’s cock. “So, we’re together, right?” 

“Yes.” He says as if Charlie has not just upended his entire world. If not for the ever-present awareness of going to court later he thinks that he might just float off with the happy lightheaded-ness rushing through him. Charlie gave him that blinding white smile, showing his teeth with the grin he was wearing now. It’s so unusual to see him smile so broadly and it’s a look Matthew could greatly stand to see a lot more of. He must be smiling too, he thinks, reaching to touch his face at the unfamiliar pulling sensation. “But we won’t be if you make me late for my court appearance.” 

“Oh, right!” Charlie says and chuckles to himself. “I got distracted.” True to form, Charlie smiled again, and then carefully took a hold of his prick in one hand. Matthew only just caught the devious gleam in Charlie’s eye and knew to brace himself for something unexpected when his cock was manhandled up slightly so Charlie could carefully take one of his balls into his mouth, still managing to retain a devious smirk as he did so. If he was trying to get Matthew hard, it worked. It’s a peculiar feeling, to have such a tight, wet hot head around a part of him that had scarcely felt his own hands let alone someone else's. As Charlie hollowed his cheeks and gave firm suction Matthew may well have been seeing stars as Charlie maintained a gentle warm hold on his cock along with it. He was careful to be gentle, at least at first and Matthew could only reach down and tangle up his fingers in Charlie’s sticky hair. 

He knew Charlie didn’t mind, and even enjoyed having it pulled but he wasn’t game enough yet to raise the stakes as Charlie released him with a soft pop. He watched him wipe the corner of his mouth with his hand and admire his accomplishment. Matthew kept looking as Charlie’s face was obscured by his cock and locked eyes with him. Charlie smiled again, and this time wrapped his lips around the glans at the top and hollowed out his cheeks again, before pressing the flat of his tongue up against the bottom of his cock head and coaxing him to full hardness. Finally, Charlie removed his hand and maintained steady eye contact with him as he sank lower and lower at a snail's pace. After teasing him with his tongue for just a moment, Charlie finally set his eyes on the prize and began moving up and down at a moderate pace, seemingly mostly focused on wetting his cock than anything else. After a torturous return up the length, Charlie hesitated just a moment on the head before releasing it from his mouth. 

“All the way up.” He said, with a slight smile again, resting one of his hands spread palm on his knee, the other on the ground next to him for the moment. Matthew just let in and out a breath as he observed Charlie wet his lips before going in for a second round. This time, he didn’t extend much of a tease, instead of focusing on his goal of seemingly taking as much of him as he could. At first, he felt his cock bump against the back of Charlie’s throat, or, that was what he thought he felt at least before Charlie swallowed suddenly, taking his cock all the way down and ending up with his nose alarmingly close to the base. Matthew grunted heavily as he felt Charlie’s throat working hard against the intrusion, but no gagging. Begrudgingly and perhaps in need of some air Charlie came up and smirked deviously. 

“Did you like that?” 

“Bloody Hell, Charlie. Where did you learn that?” 

“It’s a God-given gift.” He replied, not leaving any additional room for conversation before taking Matthew back into his mouth. But instead of going for the base, this time he focused far more on keeping his cheeks hollow, his teeth out of the way, and building a steady rhythm of up and down. Occasionally, he’d make eye contact but Matthew struggled to hold it. A) because he was continuously hit by the urge to throw his head back and try to guide Charlie by his hair. Charlie, for his part, ignored any directions given and did as he pleased. That was probably for the better since he seemed to know what he was doing and it was slowly driving Matthew insane. He had no idea how he was going to get on the stand after this. B) It was just difficult to maintain eye contact with someone literally willing to get on their knees for him. Which was a funny thought, seeing as he’d quite literally been prepared to die for Charlie. 

Not that he’d have it any other way, he thought, when it led to days like today when Charlie suggests he’d thought they were together this whole time. It led to sensations like this, of watching Charlie, move up and down his shaft, keeping focused on his goal and drawing all kinds of muffled noises from him as he did so. Who could so easily break down his defenses and walls without even really trying? Yes, the bum leg got on his nerves and was painful and he didn’t enjoy it but having Charlie here was more than consolation. 

As the rhythm built, one of Charlie’s hand’s found its way to his balls, which had become more than a little damp despite Charlie’s best efforts to keep his spit contained. The additional stimulation led the warm feeling growing at the base of his spine to grow hotter and hotter and whiter and whiter as Charlie showed zero indications of slowing, bobbing up and down at an easy to maintain speed. Finally, perhaps sensing the tense of muscles in Matthew’s abdomen he went all the way down and once again ended up with his cock as far down his throat as he could get it before coming up. The sudden change set a spark in his stomach down a fuse and as Charlie finally hit what must be his top speed Matthew managed to gasp

“I’m going to - “ and with one final grunt mostly muffled by pressing the back of his wrist against his mouth, he came. Charlie stopped moving, and Matthew could feel him swallowing as he did so. He hoped that he was at least a little prepared. Charlie told him off for that once, not telling him when he was about to come. The memory is mostly obscured by a foggy haze that has settled over his brain and he allowed the counter to take his full weight. It wasn’t a mind-blowing orgasm like he’d had before, but...Well, he did feel calm there was no arguing that. 

He watched Charlie fall back away from him and again dab at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, with precision and care, he watched from under the haze as Charlie took pains to clean him up with a damp paper towel, tuck him away, and pull his pants back up. He tucked his own shirt in and then tried to fix Charlie’s messed up hair with his hand by way of apology. 

“How do you feel? Relaxed?” 

“You could say that.” He grumbled, “But I have no idea how I’m going to get on the stand knowing that I didn’t get you off, too.” Charlie shrugged his shoulders and produced a comb from the inner pocket of his blazer. Of course, he had a comb in the pocket of his blazer; why wouldn’t he? 

“Well, we’ll just have to find time another day.” He checked his watch, “You should hurry, though. Or you might be late.” Before sliding out the door, he paused to give Charlie a kiss. 

…

Charlie was right about one thing, he certainly felt very relaxed when he arrived at the courthouse to give his testimony. And he must have cinched it too because within the day the court came back with a guilty verdict. Relieved and rather pleased with himself, it wasn’t until late in the evening he got back to the Blake house on Mycroft Avenue. The state’s lawyer had wanted to debrief with him and make sure he knew not to give any information to the public...Not so subtly hinting at his niece. But, he was in such a good mood that the assumption about his giving information to the media didn’t even bother him. He let himself in the front door and found dinner waiting for him on the stove under a tea towel. It was, as many of Amy Park’s dishes, rather bland and he found himself missing the days where Jean would cook for them. At least she knew to salt the water when making corned meat, he thought, rather ruefully. Perhaps he and Charlie should move back to his old house, he knew for a fact Charlie was a rather talented chef...Even if he would prefer for that to stay between their friends. 

The radio was playing in Blake’s room as he passed it, and he decided not to intrude on their evening, instead making his way to his own room at the back of the house. As he passed the stairwell, he could hear laughing from the two upstairs bedrooms, and it was pretty clearly the only other two residents of the house, Charlie and Danny Parks. He never expected the two of them to get along, let along become best mates but it was perhaps to be expected: He knew first hand what Charlie was like and it was probably good for him to have friends close to him in age. Maybe yesterday he might have felt jealous and stamped it down of course, and never let it affect their work wouldn’t that be a mess? But jealous, just a little, that Danny might be the one who Charlie would make a life for himself with. But tonight, he isn’t. Tonight, he’s happy that Charlie has friends and content enough to let them be. He sauntered to his room, closed the door behind him, and was happy to strip out of his monkey suit. Off it went the jacket onto a hanger, the shirt into his hamper and the pants, after a struggle, after it. 

He only bothered with a pajama shirt, not in the mood to fight with the pants this evening. He tied his dressing gown around his waist and settled onto his bed for some light reading before sleep. He unfurled his reading glasses and for a moment considered that perhaps he was getting old, wasn’t he? He never needed glasses to read when he was young but he does now. With a sigh, he pushed the thoughts aside and tried to focus on the novel Charlie had given him to read by Henry Lawson, apparently just rapt that the two shared a last name. So far in the text, he’d concluded that was about all they shared. 

He was just beginning to consider setting the book down for the evening when he heard two knocks at the door, gentle but not hesitant. 

“Come in!” He said, louder than speaking but not loud enough to yell. The door creaked open, and Charlie leaned on the door frame. He was wearing Matthew’s robe, the one he stole what seems like forever ago and now wore like a medal of honour. Under that, Matthew could see a thin, cotton shirt and trousers that hid absolutely nothing. 

“How was the trial?” He asked, from where he was. 

“Come in and I’ll tell you all about it. You’re letting all my cool air out.” Charlie scoffed but did so. He walked past and gave Matthew’s admittedly rather shitty desk fan an appraising glance before dropping onto the side of the bed. Matthew sat, and moved to sit next to him. When he settled, Charlie looked at him, and took hold of one hand, settling it in his lap. It gives Matthew a bit of a head rush; to know Charlie would like to hold his hand. That they are currently holding hands. 

“Well?” 

“Well, I gave my testimony, the jury went off and four hours later we got a guilty verdict.” 

“That’s great!” Charlie enthused, “He’ll get life, won’t he?” 

“I hope so, but that’s up to the judge.” Matthew sighed, and released Charlie’s hand so both of his could wipe his face and hope to wipe away the images of the crime scene from behind his eyes. “We should finish that conversation we had earlier.” 

“I’m with you, what else do you need to know?”

“I’m not sure. I’m still processing it all...Be gentle with me, Charlie. I’ve never done this before.” 

“Okay.” He agreed, “Yeah, gentle. I can do that. Should we go on a real date? We could go to that restaurant you took me too, the one with the pillars in the dining room?” Matthew thought about taking Charlie out to eat, paying for his meal, and then bringing him home...Followed by the thought of stripping him out of a suit. Followed by another, dirtier thought. 

“I was thinking we could go to The Golden Crown, Blake keeps telling me it’s good.” 

“I’ve never eaten oriental food before.” Charlie said, then nodded, “I like trying new things.” 

“What are you doing on Thursday?” 

“Oh, nothing much...How about we leave at six?” 

“You have a date.” Charlie smiles again, just for him, and Matthew can’t help but to smile back. Charlie comes in for a kiss that Matthew is happy to deliver. As he pushes closer, kissing him back with passion and fervour Matthew’s hand found it’s way between the dressing gown and Charlie’s prick which was sitting limply in between his legs with only cursory interest in the evening’s events. Matthew was happy to change that and palmed at him through his pants. Not prepared to stop just yet, Charlie kissed on a few moments longer then pulled away, lips beginning to look red and eyebrows very slightly creased. 

“You don’t have to.” 

“Mm, but I want to.” Charlie gave him a cloying smile and nodded his assent as Matthew left his side for just a moment to retrieve vaseline from the inside of his bedside table. He opened the canister and collected some on the palm of his hand. While he waited for it to warm up he leaned in for another kiss from Charlie who this time decided to mess up his hair instead. He let him do so until he was satisfied with Matthew sufficiently mussed. When he finally settled back and looked at Matthew he couldn’t stop the hot bubble of affection that bumped up against his rib cage at the sight of him. 

Using his other hand, he pulled away from the waistband of Charlie’s trousers and slid his hand inside, the vaseline body warm and slippery against his cock. Charlie let out a little, breathy sigh at the feeling and lay his head face down against Mathew’s shoulder as he slowly ran his hand along his length. He’d seen Charlie naked plenty of times, both in intimate situations and in the bathrooms at the station but that didn’t stop him from taking his time feeling him up and considering the slightly left curve of his shaft. He gave a good few tugs, enough to get Charlie to grunt in pleasure as he allowed his speed to build up. 

And another thing: he did like to tease Charlie a bit. It wasn’t his fault, honestly. The noises that Charlie made when teased were just...Did he want to admit it? They were a turn-on; he liked to hear them even when he was sure Charlie would prefer him to just get to the pointy end. Oh well, he thought, hesitating his hand at the tip and running the tip of his thumb across the slit there. Charlie moaned weakly into his shoulder, clearly doing his best to be quiet. 

“Boss…” He whined, voice turning higher at the end as Matthew repeated the action in the middle of hearing his title come from Charlie’s lips. 

“Hm?” 

“You’re so mean to me.” He mumbled but didn’t tell him to stop or have any real malice behind his words. 

“Am I?” 

“I thought you were just going to give me a helping hand.” 

“Did you?” He said, using his other hand to lift Charlie’s face and kiss him again. Their faces were so close that he could just about feel the tickling flutter of Charlie’s long eyelashes on his cheeks. He allows Charlie access to his mouth so that their kiss can get deeper, more intense, and fill him with newer, brighter sensations to think about as Matthew continues his hand movements, once again building up a rhythm. 

When Charlie has to break away from the kiss in order to bite down a sharp, hard gasp Matthew switches gears, moves his hand lower, and takes a long moment to massage his balls, smiling at the image Charlie’s expression conjures up in his mind as he does so. He lowered his head back down, not biting Matthew’s shoulder; that would be over the line. But he does push his lips against it to stifle more breathy moans as he attempts to stay quiet and avoid waking the house. This time, when he builds up again he decides to take pity on the poor lad who now has one of his hands clutching haplessly at the front of Matthew’s pajama shirt as he did his best not to make any loud or otherwise unexplainable noises. 

With one final flourish of his hand, Charlie came in one long, silent shudder before falling once more against his arm, breathing heavily as Matthew withdrew his hand from his soiled pants. Charlie made no effort to get up and leave, or to move away from Matthew’s shoulder where he could feel the quiet breath up against him. He let him lie there for five minutes until his arm started to get numb when he nudged him awake after it seemed like he’d fallen asleep. 

“Charlie? Time to get up.” 

“Can’t I stay here?” 

“My arm is numb. You need to get up.” He did so, only to flop back onto the bed. Matthew rolled his eyes and stripped back the duvet cover so Charlie could join him when he stopped being dramatic. There would be time to sneak him back into his room tomorrow. 


End file.
